Burnout
by Anotherjaneway
Summary: Station 51 feels the sting of no sleep and the fury of an oil refinery fire. Will Chet ever learn his lesson?


This is a text version of the original still airing imaged, music soundtracked story.

Emergency Theater Live, Episode

. Season - Episode Short summary-  
Station 51 feels the sting of no sleep and the fury of an oil refinery fire. Will Chet ever learn his lesson?

****WARNING**** The long summary to come is very story spoiling and will take away plot surprises if you read it now before reading the longer story below it.

Decide now if you want to read this episode's detailed summary before doing so.

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Long Summary-  
Roy suffers the chore of reorganizing a new drug box for the squad.  
The gang feels the full effects of stupid calls and the lack of sleep.  
Boot tries to be the perfect ambassador. From the driveway of the station, Captain Stanley witnesses an explosion at the Arco refinery across the street. The gang treats two blast injured truck drivers escaping the disaster. Dixie and Brackett are horrified to see the event unfolding on TV. The paramedics climb a distillation tower after a lost plant manager spotted by a fire department helicopter.  
A gas leak explosion traps Johnny, Chet and Roy inside an Arco saferoom with only a drug box and a few scba air bottles. Smoke inhalation takes its toll on Chet and their Arco victim. Brackett devises emergency antidote treatment to cope with their exposure to poison gasses. The aftermath, days later, is viewed on a news broadcast telling of the fire's effect on the community. Dixie McCall is deeply disturbed by the fact that the tower refuge, used by the three firefighters during the height of the explosions, was completely destroyed shortly after they got out of there. Chet takes that fact hard.

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. The Story Unfolds...

Season Five, Episode Thirty Nine.  
Burnout Debut Launch: November 1st, 2006. *  
From: "Pat or Cassidy or Jeff" Date: Fri Nov 3, 2006 5:01 pm Subject: Wrong Side Of The Bed..

The only thing happy and bright in the kitchen at Station 51,  
was the sunlight pouring through the early dawn windows.

"Say, Roy?" came a sleepy voice from the other side of the sun soaked overfull eating table.

"Yeah.." said DeSoto, frowning in concentration as he carefully placed and organized items from the squad's drug box out onto the table. Syringes, vials and needles were lined up row by row in front of him and his monthly inventory sheet.

"I'll give you twenty bucks if you take over writing this week's runs in the fire station log book for me." Gage frowned, still cracking open a crusty eye over his steaming, untouched coffee mug. "I honestly think... I won't be able remember them all."

Roy grinned, peering myopically at his notation slate. "Six one hundred milligram syringes of Thiamine, two bottles of nitro... Johnny, in all fairness, that's not my chore or problem today. It's yours. I've got enough of a headache for one morning updating our drug box to Dr. Brackett's new expectations."

Johnny's reaction was mild, where he still slumped shirtless in his chair. "No, I really mean it. How many calls did we get last night?"

Hank Stanley came whistling into the rec room and immediately stopped in his tracks, pegging Gage with a glare for still being out of uniform.

Wordlessly, Johnny reached around a shoulder and grabbed his ironed shirt from where it had been draped over the back of his chair and waved it in the air in self defense. "It's right here, Cap. I'm set for another call. My helmet's even been polished. Did that a couple of hours ago after that pregnant lady puked all over it." he mumbled, "Or was it right after we...got back from the....last fire call.." he yawned.  
"Or?...Wasn't our most recent an MVA?" he blinked in surprised forgetfulness.

Chet Kelly, walking by on his way for the coffee pot while he buttoned up his shirt after his sixth shower of the morning, made a face."Boy, are you off today. We had a cardiac, Gage. A street bum, lying in his soggy *ss cardboard box right where the cops found him on the corner of Macalester and Franklin."

Johnny frowned, still ignoring his caffeine source. "Did he live?"

Roy sighed in irritation.  
"Yeah, he lived. We got his PSVT back down to normal with just a little adenosine." Then DeSoto bit his lip, cursing softly under his breath. "Oh, d*mn. Johnny, I think we forgot to replace that when we picked up supplies last hour."

Johnny reached into the open still unpacked I.V. case and pulled out a new box of Adenocard. "I remembered. I never forget a supply item. Habit built up from dealing with the endless parade of psycho supply nurses we've gone through at Rampart over the last five years."

"Oh, that's just terrific, pal. I'll take that." said Roy sarcastically as he grabbed it out of his partner's fingers. "Next time, put it back where it belongs when you get handed a new one. Now I gotta start my work sheet all over again. And these carbons, too. I thought I was done inventorying all the cardiac meds."

Chet grinned. "Are you sure it's not like you said, Roy? That it's not your problem?"

"Kelly, you hush up." said Cap, from over his newspaper. "Or you'll be on the rosters come Monday for updating the fire logs instead of Johnny."

Kelly wisely kept quiet and he hid behind the couch long enough to scratch Boot behind the ears where the dog lay dead to the world. ::Huh. Even Boot's tired from getting all worked up and barking in excitement every time we've gotten a call out.::

"Chet, why don't you make yourself useful and go get the address notes out of the squad for Gage." Hank added, without looking up.

"Aw, Cap. They're scattered all over the passenger cab, full of I.V. tape or held down with post it notes. A few of them are probably even....stuck on the bottom of Johnny's shoes or something because he was dumb enough to keep stepping on the pile he's still got lying in the middle of the floor." Kelly complained.

"Chet, take it as a gentle request if it pleases you to think it wasn't an order.  
Then go get him the log book out of my office with a couple of pencils. Make sure nothing's got ink in it." Hank said no nonsense.

"Thanks a lot, Cap." Johnny minced, finally burning his mouth on a large gulp of his coffee. "Your faith in my penmanship ability is astounding.. AH! Owww."

"It's not your writing I'm worried about. It's the accuracy. You said it yourself that you'd be a little absent minded today when it came to recalling rescue details." Cap shrugged. "Marco, go grab him some ice and water for that scald of his. Last thing I want to see is him moaning about being in pain as well."

"Right, Cap." said Lopez, getting up off the couch for the frig. "Roy, I'll get it.  
Don't get up." he said, slowing down as he passed by the table so the wind from his body didn't blow DeSoto's carefully crafted notes off the table.

Johnny miserably accepted one of the popiscles Marco handed him that the firemen usually kept for hurt kids coming to the station. He unpackaged it, and put it onto his scorched tongue without looking at it. He made an immediate face when the flavor of grape knee hi startled him. "Yuck! Aren't there any banana ones left? There were six of them left in there last night." Then he opened narrowed eyes, looking for a popiscle thief.  
Gage's lips tightened when Kelly began to sink down behind the couch again.  
"Oh, Chet. How could you? These things are only supposed to be for injuries."

"Oh, really? In that case, we'd be buying up a whole ice cream truck's worth of them just for you, due to your poor-staying-healthy-while-on-the-job track record. Quit being such a klutz with hot coffee all the time and maybe the rest of us won't be forced to keep eating them all behind your back out of sheer frustration."

Cap's eyebrows went up over the newspaper and immediately, Chet beelined for the vehicle bay to carry out his Cap-ordered instructions to the letter.

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Photos: None.

*  
Date: Wed, 8 Nov 2006 07:19:35 -0800 (PST) From: "Sam Iam" Subject: The Best Defense...

Roy felt probing eyes watching him as he made his way out to the garage half an hour later. He turned around on instinct in midwalk and discovered that he had gained a four legged shadow, one who was tailing him patiently.

"Hiya, boy." he said to the shaggy station dog. "Nothing's gonna turn out fun or even be terribly interesting here. Maybe you oughta go find Chet and see what he's up to. Nobody's seen him since Cap let loose a steam valve."

Boot just continued to sit neatly at his feet in between the engine and squad, all the while wagging his bushy tail happily.

Roy DeSoto sighed as he finally put away the new drug box into its storage slot compartment inside the squad. "O.k. suit yourself. Don't say that I didn't warn you. I'm gonna be boring." he told him. Then he rubbed his chin, thinking. ::Whew.. I'm glad that's done. Now all I have to do is add my new notes to the usual fire department manual pharmaceutical footnotes and then type up a couple of my master copy inventory sheets for Dr. Brackett and Chief McConnikee to look over. Shouldn't take too long. Maybe an hour at the most if we don't get any rescue calls coming in.::

DeSoto stretched tiredly as he regarded Boot who was still focusing all of his attention on him to the exclusion of all else. Roy looked around self consciously. "What?" he asked the dog. "W-Why are you still bugging me? Are we about to get another squad run or something?" he asked, glancing at the still darkened klaxon light positioned over the kitchen door.

Bark! said Boot, still regarding Roy's face mischieviously. Then the dog disappeared under the engine and dragged out his heavily tooth shredded chunk of knotted rope. He trotted over to Roy with it in his jaws.

"Oh, so you wanna play. Sorry, Boot. But I'm afraid I'm gonna haveta pass on your invitation. I'm completely bushed. We've been up since yesterday morning. Nobody's even slept yet." Yawning, Roy joined Boot by the engine and moved to sit wearily on the Ward's step runner so he could scrub the dog's ears affectionately with his hose water chapped hands. "We've gotta save our energy for folks who really need it, ok?"

Boot looked up and licked his nose once with an understanding whine before he scrambled off animatedly to go do something else.

Roy felt his eyes growing heavy and he stretched out right where he was on the long chrome runner board and soon, he started snoring as a too long delayed sleep claimed him almost immediately.

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He awoke with a startled cry when the tones went off right over his head. His hands slammed down on something hard and meshed that was pressing in around him as he went to sit up fast. "Ow." he shouted as he sat up in newly alarm call lit surroundings. His ears were making out the sounds of the rest of the gang scrambling for their jackets.

"Not for us. Engine call." came Johnny's sleepy voice from somewhere nearby as L.A. droned out the effected address over the intercom.

"Oh, *cough* o.k., thanks." Roy blinked and opened bleary eyes in confusion. Frowning, Roy looked at where he was with light squinted eyes. He found himself lying in a spare stokes stretcher that had been cast haphazardly onto the bunk he usually took next to Johnny's. "What the h*ll? Is this you getting back at me for us guys building you a hanging stokes baby cradle during your bout of insomnia last year?" he asked angrily.

"No. We just thought you'd be more comfortable lying in your own bed instead of lying on the engine. You were out so we figured this was the best way to move you without waking you up from a nap unnecessarily." Johnny told him, his head still buried under his pillow. "Geesh, of all the ungrateful--"

"Sorry. Thanks, Johnny. Uhhh.. I'm still out of it a little." he said, with all of his limbs hanging limp and splayed spread eagle outside of the basket stretcher he lay in.

"So are we all. Join the club." grumbled Gage as he rolled over to his other deeply blanketed side. "Now shut up so I can get back to sleep."

Roy didn't even fight the suggestion. His eyes closed and moments later he was out like a light for the second time as soon as the real ones finally extinguished themselves after the engine's call out had completed. Reigning silence took over the bunk room as it was returned to its previous state of shade pulled darkness.

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##Engine 51. Garbage fire at the dump. 1304 South 5th Street. 1304 South 5th Street. Cross street Main. Time out: 11: 56.##

Hank Stanley winced when he and the others staggered out of the bunk room and into the bright noon time daylight streaming into the bay as the garage doors automatically slid open to release them. He had to grab twice at the mic in the alcove to give his acknowledgement as he arm covered his watering eyes as they got used to the strong sunlight around them. "L.A. Engine 51. 10-4. KMG 365.."

He climbed into the cab next to Mike Stoker who already had his helmet on.  
"Mike, is this Mac Donner's operation again?"

"Yep. This is the third garbage fire he's had this month." replied the engineer as he glanced into the rear view mirror as the others piled in.

"Glad it's gonna be his last." Stanley growled. "The state gets to close him down now for ignoring multiple fire violations and a court summons."

In the back, Chet was struggling into his seat belt.  
"Aghh! I was in the middle of the best dream I've had in weeks. Boy is this kook gonna get a piece of my mind. I'm gonna--" Chet began.

"Chet, we don't need another citizen's complaint filed against the fire department for mouthing off. No matter how well intentioned. You're gonna hold your tongue." Hank said no nonsense. But then his face grinned slightly. "But on the other hand,  
we all know how unpredictable old hoses sometimes get. Who can say when one of 'em might burst open into a million pieces."

"Hey..., yeahhh. Can't blame us if it happens near a property owner after he's gotten too close into our faces while interfering with a fire call." Marco smiled.

Stanley set his face into an even line. "O.k. Let's rig up that second unnecessary hose. Guys, you know which one."

"The one on the bottom of the hose bed we've been conveniently forgetting to change out just so we could nail this bozo someday?" Stoker chuckled.

"That's the one." Cap nodded. "But you didn't hear it from me." he winked.

"This will so be worth getting completely soaked to the skin this time." Kelly grinned.

"Remember, it's all gotta look like it's an 'accident.' " Cap said ironically.  
"So there'll be nothing for which we can get legally pegged. Especially if the cops wanna be there to oversee our fire for gathering their final evidence to invoke Mac's official property condemnation."

"We're the best in the county, Cap, or so you keep telling us." Stoker said, rounding the Ward into another turn on the boulevard. "Relax and enjoy the view. We promise that Mac'll never see it coming." and he cracked his knuckles over the engine's steering wheel.

Photo: Roy sitting on the engine's running board in the bay.

Photo: Boot in close up, sitting by the engine.

Photo: The gang getting up for a bunks call.

Photo: Roy and Johnny talking from their bunks.

Photo: The gang laughing over a stokes cradle joke.

Photo: A junkyard fire.

Photo: A hose burst involving Captain Stanley and Chief McConnikee.

*  
From: "chameleonkate01" Date: Thu Nov 9, 2006 8:59 am Subject: Right In Your Own Back Yard..

Roy and Johnny awoke to the sounds of all the showers turning on in the bathroom.

::They're back.:: Roy thought. DeSoto looked at his watch. ::That didn't take long. I wonder how pointless that fire call really was.::

He sat up about the same time as Gage and stretched, sitting yoga style in the stokes that the gang had given to him while he slept.

Johnny yawned, eyeing up the steam drifting across the ceiling from the shower room. "How's your back after that thing?" he frowned in sympathy.

Roy blinked a few times, self analyzing while rubbing an eye.  
"Great, actually. Always figured there was a reason they designed these things the way they did. C-spine protection, huh? It works.." Roy mumbled. "Did you sleep any? You still look whacked."

"Yeah." Johnny replied. Then his wristwatch shot up to his face. "About an hour. Just enough to take the edge off I guess."

A loud audible growl rumbled into the air between them.

"Was that your stomach?!" Roy chuckled.

Gage shot to his feet, not bothering to help Roy as he struggled to untangle himself from his sheets and the stokes. "Maybe. It is after lunch time. And I'm starving. Who's turn is it to cook today?"

"Cap's."

"I wonder what he got from the grocery store." Johnny wondered, slowly shuffling past the desk, heading for a sink so he could wash his face.

"Probably something meat and potatoes, like usual." DeSoto said, finally standing.

"Let's hope so. I could use a meal with a 'hearty' label." Johnny sighed.

Bark! said a bedspread covered Boots from the vicinity of Chet's bed.

Both paramedics startled badly. They hadn't been expecting Boots to be anywhere else but under the kitchen table or the engine, while he took a snooze like he always did around station mealtimes.

Roy recovered first. "Huh. Guess someone else got a little tired, too."

Gage leaned on the doorway for support while he waited for his pounding heart to settle down. "If I faint in a few seconds, don't wake me up again.  
This whole day's been an absolute nightmare. I could use the sudden break."

Roy frowned, scratching an itch under his T-shirt while he sleepily figured out what arm to put into which hole in his uniform shirt. "It has been a harrowing day. First the bad delivery, then the alley bum coronary, and all those cat-in-a-tree calls."

"Please don't remind me." Gage moaned.

Roy didn't hear him. He went on with his thoughts. "...Not to mention all the dumpster and garbage fires the rest of the guys seem to be getting. I think that last one was their ninth since yesterday morning."

"Ouch... That many already? Cap's gonna be a bear thinking about all that wasted tax payer money. We'd better watch out." Johnny told him.

Just then, Hank Stanley entered the dark bunkroom in a shower towel and waved up the lights, laughing up a storm as he scrubbed his clean hair dry with another towel. The rest of the gang came out of the steaming bathroom on his heels, and they were just as unexplicably happy.

Gage and Roy looked at each other mutely, their mouths hanging open. Finally, Johnny tempted the devil. "Uh, how'd it go guys?"

"Great man! It was a sheer masterpiece." Kelly crowed.

"Yeah, one of the best knock downs I've ever seen. Nice work fellas." said Cap, patting the toweling off Marco, Stoker and Chet on the back in congratulations.

"The way the fire was put out?" Johnny asked incredulously, perching his boxer shorted butt onto the desk near the bathroom door.

Roy agreed with his puzzled partner. "Yeah, I thought this was a trash fire. Those are usually kinda messy to handle any way you slice it."

"No, guys." said Stoker. "We're talking about the way Mac Donner went down after the marked hose KO'd him. He landed right in the middle of a mud puddle. It was so sweet."

Johnny's lightbulb finally came on. "Oh, so we finally got our long plotted instant revenge for all our dumb responses to Mac's place to put out all of his illegal burns?"

"And how. Looks like ol' Donner's a goner. And so's his junk yard."  
replied Marco, sliding into his pants.

Cap nodded, his eyes twinkling. "Yep. The cops sided with us this time. Permanently." said Hank.

Johnny collapsed into the desk chair and spun the goose neck lamp around gleefully. "Man! It's about time he was put out of business. All I can say is that bit of news sure feels good. Makes me kinda wish I could've been there to see that secret hose trap finally get sprung."

"Go see Vince. He was there. He'll tell it better." said Chet, pulling on his socks. He ignored Boot's attempts to nose his way out from under the bedspreads where his butt was pinning them down. "You snooze on my bunk,..you lose, Boot. Now you gotta wait until I'm done to get out from under there." he told the shoving blanketed lump.

They all heard a snort as Boot finally gave up blanket opening seeking as he re-collapsed back down again behind Chet's bare back to sulk.

Stanley clapped his hands together. "Ok, I'm gonna go fix us all some lunch to celebrate. Who's gonna help me?" he asked brightly.

The rest of the guys melted into the shadows, feigning being tied up with the serious business of getting back into their uniforms, or making their beds.

Roy was the only one who remained attentive. "A chore assignment given is a chore assignment taken, Cap. Your own rules." he shrugged.

Cap pursed his lips, suddenly thoughtful."Guess that one's not such a good one any more, eh? Why not?"

"Because it's one of McConnikee's. Kinda dampens the cooperative spirit. You saw the effects of it right there." said DeSoto, turning to make his bed. He sidled around Cap afterwards with the spare stokes in both hands to go put it away.

"Ok, I'll make a few changes on next week's roster to fix that." said Hank, as he followed DeSoto out into the bay.

Captain Stanley popped the main door open so they could clear out the extra humidity from the locker room. "Smell that fresh air."

"Nice. No brush fires to speak of." Roy agreed.

The two firefighters whirled when they heard eager claws scrabbling on the concrete behind them as Boot made a beeline for the outside. He skidded to a halt by the flagpole as he quickly lifted his leg to p*e on it.

"Oops." said Cap, making his way out to Boot's side to pet him in apology once he was through relieving himself. "Sorry, boy. Guess we forgot to let you out this morning." said Hank, balancing on squatted toes in the driveway. He saw that DeSoto hadn't followed him. ::He must be coffee bound.:: Cap decided.

A muffled boom shook the air and knocked him onto his butt. Instinctively,  
Hank grabbed Boot into his arms and huddled protectively over him as bits of debris and burning embers coated his shirt's back and hair. He swept them off himself and the dog instantly once the realization of suddenly falling under fire danger sank in.

Cap looked up in horror as a spreading cloud of black oily soot and shooting flames suddenly engulfed one of the Arco refinery's pumping towers across the street. Its cone of destruction started climbing high into the verdant blue sky.

He scrambled to his feet once the concussion had passed."Roy! Guys?! Anybody! Call in a Priority Code Red! There's fire at the arco plant! Something's blowing up over there big time!"

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Photos: None.

*  
From : Patti or Jeff or Cassidy Sent : Thursday, November 16, 2006 7:42 PM Subject : The Rising H*ll...

Mike Stoker shouted from the bay, an HT already perched on his shoulder. "Cap, where are they gonna stage us?"

Stanley swung his head once more over the bouvelard as he began walking backwards up the driveway, hastening Boot back into the station with a sweeping gesture. "Let me figure that out." Hank bit his lip in apprehension as he studied the brand new smoke plume. "Huh,..Looks like everything might be involving the compressor pipes pumping gasoline to the Shell oil distribution terminal!" he decided, shouting loudly to Mike. "Looks like the westmost main pipe juncture hub's blown. That's gotta be very near one of the holding tanks. Looks like flames are almost touching number twelve."

"Twelve's heavy crude, Cap. That one's filled with three million gallons at the most on the weekends. Southeast at three quarters of a mile it is." replied Stoker. "I'll park us upwind."

Hank nodded when he saw the rest of the gang piling into the vehicles. "L.A. might turn the station into a command post,  
gang, so leave the big doors popped open. Boot can keep out anyone not allowed in. We'll know more once Chief Conrad's been updated. Let's get to Alameda along 405's bridge to get to a better vantage point. Most likely we'll only be starting the evacuations for now until we're told more about what's going on."

Overhead from the bay speakers, and through their vehicle radios, L.A. droned out assignments. ##Division One, Battalions 1 and 4. Trucks 246, 18, 99,.. Foam units 5, 127, 14 and 205...Stations 51, 110, 24 and 8,.. respond to a fourth alarm at the Arco Oil Refinery's west end Catacarb terminal in Carson. 1700 Pacific Coast Highway and Wilmington. 1700 Pacific Coast Highway and Wilmington. Cross street, San Diego Freeway, 405. Time out : 13:31.##

They all heard Battalion Chief number 4, Conrad, report in. ##L.A., Battalion Four on Tach Two. Give me a second rundown on all mobilized equipment.##

L.A. dutifully repeated the called out units.

Marco sighed from his seat in the engine. "Why do these fires seem like they only break out at the biggest Complex oil refineries in the area?" he complained, pulling on his helmet as he got into the Ward La France as fast as he could.

Mike shrugged. "Maybe it's because they've more exposed works that can get fouled up during processing." he said, turning the ignition.

Chet thought out loud. "Didn't Carson West just get those additional experimental units to crack the heavy gas, oils and distillate oils into lighter forms of that funky new kind of higher octane fuel the county's eventually switching over to?"

"They sure did. And those are located right near where the fire is." Cap grumbled. Inwardly, he began hating all over again the looming fire fighting tactical problems the refinery always raised in their monthly station meetings.

##Cap, I'm afraid it'll be an even bigger headache than we're figuring, once we get over there.## Johnny said over the radio as both trucks pushed through the panicking traffic careening on the avenue, and started heading for their destination.

##Oh?.. How so?## Hank radioed back.

##I read they put in a new pipeline last month running aviation fuel to LAX directly.## Johnny toggled back.

"Terrific..." Hank frowned, never taking his eye off the smoke billowing up and spreading out over Arco.

A few minutes later, they had arrived. Hank could see two oil depot trucks fleeing the area. "Stoker, cut off one of those escaping drivers. Let's see if we can get an insider's report and any casualty figures."

Stoker blasted on the engine's airhorn and waggled the Ward in their lane as the squad did the same thing in front of another truck hauler as the four vehicles met each other, going in opposite directions on the empty, commuter deserted freeway.

The closest fuel trucker squealed tires into a near panicked instant halt, after he understood the fire department's unspoken visual message.  
He got out of his turned off truck with a nervous glance back at the ominously rumbling, blast stricken refinery as he ran over to Captain Stanley.

The gang immediately noticed that he was covered head to foot in crude oil and tiny metal fragments. Explosive dust.

"Mister, are you hurt?" Hank asked, grabbing the man by the shoulders after he climbed down out of the Ward's cab.

"No.. *gasp*...no.. Steve and I.... we...had to drive under a ruptured line to get our loads outta there before they blew up, too." said the man. "I'm just wet from the leak. I'm not burned."

"All right. Ok. But we're gonna check you out anyway. Come over here."  
Cap sat the man down on the engine's runner. "What's the product involved in the fire? Anyone else hurt?" he asked, guessing correctly that the man was lying about his true condition when the trucker almost toppled over without seeming to realize that he was feeling dizzy.

Mike Stoker held him up with a supporting glove against his chest and started taking the trucker's pulse at the wrist.

Hank looked up as Roy and Johnny laid their own tanker driver down onto the ground next to the squad. Roy shouted. "He's ok, Cap.." shouted DeSoto, from where he was huddled over the man. "Just a little smoke inhalation."

"Mine's got bumps and bruises. His breathing's fine." Hank fired back.

"Ok.." replied Gage, breaking out some oxygen for the first man.  
"One of us will be right there."

Stanley's victim coughed and started shivering in reaction as he answered Cap's question. "N-Nobody else as far as I know, past my friend. It's.. light grade gasoline getting treated with the company's usual oxygenate, methyl tertiary butyl-ether." He nodded gratefully when Marco wrapped him in a warm woolen blanket.

Hank swore softly. "MTBE.. I'll be glad when that finally gets phased out and replaced with clean ethanol next year."

The trucker went on with his account.  
"My manager said a hydroskimming juncture in one of the desulfurization processing units suddenly froze up on his monitor. My guess is that fumes must've ...built up in one of the basic topping units and ruptured a relief valve." The oil soaked man's face fell open in shock. "Oh, my G*d. Did the spark plugs on somebody's truck set off the initial explosion that took out our oil's transferring line?"

"Anything could have triggered that, sir. Absolutely anything. Static electricity... A hammer's blow... Maybe even an unknown chemical reaction. We may never find out what actually started this fire because of all the heat involved so don't start pointing fingers at any fellow truckers just yet." Hank smiled. "It's probably not gonna end up being your fault."

The man in Cap's arms slumped against the fire engine and he finally let Stoker wipe the oil out of his eyes with a gauze pad as the engineer quickly examined him for problems. Stoker reported the man's vitals.  
"Cap, pulse's 130 but regular. Respirations are 22. He's got just a small cut on the top of his head. There's a piece of metal embedded inside. I've pretty much stopped the bleeding from it."

"Ok. I'll pass that along." Hank replied.

The trucker started crying with dry eyes. "I ...we..did what Marve told us to do after all the sh*t hit the fan. He snapped out our emergency orders from the manual and then we just concentrated on getting all our fuel trucks way the h*ll out of there. These two are the last to leave."

"Marve's your manager? Where is he now?" Hank asked, looking up at the spreading fiery mess the pipe leak was making of that part of the plant.

"I don't know. I don't know... Ah..." he rubbed his grease covered forehead, thinking hard. "Last thing I heard was.. *gasp* Yeah. Marve said that he was going to go up into one of the distillation towers to see if it had taken on any damage.."

Hank sighed in frustration at the news. He lifted his HT to his mouth. "Engine 51, Battalion 4. An employee has just reported that a refinery manager may have gotten himself trapped inside one of the cooling towers in the immediate hot zone. He says the fire's directly involving the west side depot's pumping terminal currently running off tank number twelve. In jeopardy is straight crude oil and light gasoline treated with MTBE. All the terminal's manned fuel transportation trucks have been evacuated."

##Battalion Four, Engine 51. 10-4. What's your current status?##

"We're with two minor injuries on a pair of truckers. Both conscious."  
said Stanley.

##Engine 51, I'm sending in Squad 8 to take over for Squad 51. They'll finish handling your victims. I need you and all of your men to get into air bottles and go find that lost man. You're closest. According to Arco's head spokesperson, he's the only one missing. If you deem the risk is too great, at no time do I want your station crew or vehicles to enter the fire zone. I have Aircrane Helitanker 47 in route in about one to do an initial recon to determine our overall burn situation. He'll be directly visualizing your search and rescue attempt from the air.  
The pilot's on HT channel Tach One and he is in a communication's relay to us. I have Truck 127 going in with you for foaming cover.## said Chief Conrad. ##Command Post is located at your station house.##

"Engine 51, Battalion 4, your orders are understood. Squad 8 is now on scene. We're clearing." said Hank into the radio as he watched Johnny and Roy trade oxygen apparatuses and care notes with the paramedics from the second rescue squad. One of the new fire medics jogged over to Mike and led the dazed trucker away over to his medical gear so Station 51 could drive off. He wished them luck with a couple of superstitious knuckle raps over the number on his helmet.

"We're gonna need it." said Chet as he watched eight's crew recede into the distance. They heard the squad's called in ambulance going by the other way long before they ever saw it through the thickening smoke.

Ahead of them, they could see tongues of flames shooting hundreds of feet up into the air under a dark and dense rising mushroom cloud. It was prevented from dispersing by an air inversion's capping effect.

The fireman knew that all flights were now being diverted away from the airport for the duration of the fire.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't really scared right now." admitted Marco out loud to the others in the engine. He could only marvel at Roy's bravado as the squad ahead of them sped up even faster as they approached the monster fire.

"That's all good. That'll just make you careful." encouraged Cap. He too, was swallowing around a pair of dry lips as they drew closer to the melting, ignited depot.

"Yeah, we're all gonna be scared half to death in there." repeated Marco, as he put on his air bottle and tightened all of its straps.

Kelly gulped then, suddenly as seriously calm as was possible for him. "Fellas? What happens if you get scared half to death twice?" he mumbled through his flowing air mask.

-  
Dixie McCall walked into the nurse's lounge whistling happily. She was about to get in a whole fifteen minutes communing with a coffee pot.

As she entered, she saw Kel Brackett seated on the couch in his street clothes. "Kel.." she said. "I thought you went off duty ten minutes ago.  
Why are you still here? You should be at home already." she chuckled pulling down her favorite mug from the back wall full of them next to the fruit vending machines. Then the smile wiped off her face when she saw that the cigarette in between his fingers hadn't yet been alighted.

Dr. Brackett barely afforded his head nurse the slightest glance.  
He pointed to the television set that was turned on before him."That's why." he told her, indicating a news broadcast currently showing live video being taken from a news reporting helicopter that was circling high over somewhere close to the hospital. "Looks like most of the Carson refinery's going up into smoke. Won't be long before all of us off duty are notified of this in a full blown hospital wide disaster call."

"I thought I smelled something new in the air eating lunch outside in the cafeteria. Guess it was wishful thinking on my part to believe that stench was just magnified smog due to the still air weather inverting overhead."  
Dixie sighed. "Want me to get the ball rolling?"

"In a minute. First, I want to learn how many casualties we're likely to get."  
said Brackett as he turned up the volume as a couple of interns piled into the room. He shushed them quiet with a hiss, pointing. They gathered in around the nurse and doctor right away when Kel beckoned to them.

Thoughtful and worried, Dixie sank down on the cushions next to Kel to watch the news report a little closer. Her empty coffee mug tumbled out of her hand and onto the couch, completely forgotten.

The voice from the aging, red tubed tinted television set continued.  
##The fire, which police believe was an accident, could burn for days. Police have advised all civilians not evacuated from the mandatory two mile radius around the Arco refinery, to keep their windows and doors closed because of possible toxic fumes. Thick clouds of smoke are continuing to spread to the north-east and north-west of the site...

##The risk for further explosions remains high. NBC's Gavin Hewitt said about 100 firefighters are waiting to attack the blaze. Fire chiefs are consulting with oil industry experts about the safety of using millions of gallons of fire retardant foam to quell the blaze. Fire Chief Conrad was noted a few minutes ago to say they needed to know they had enough foam before they could even begin to fight the fire...

##An Arco spokesman has said there is no indication yet on whether or not the explosion will cause fuel shortages and the police are warning the public against panic-buying...

##Meanwhile samples of smoke are being taken to determine the long term effects of exposure, if any, according to Dr. Joe Early, one of the head physicians at Rampart General Hospital....##

Kel shifted uncomfortably. "Joe's already in on this?!"

"Shh, I want to hear what he has to say, Kel. Now shush." said Dixie.

Kel moused down, still held by an intense concern over the unfolding dangerous situation.

On the TV, it was disconcerting to see a live report broadcasting from the ER entrance that they both knew was just outside the nurse's lounge door.

The silver haired doctor smiled into the camera. ##...however, what I want to restate is that those people who are most at risk right now in Carson, are those people who have inhaled the small particles in the smoke, which contained hydrocarbons, can be an irritant but they have extremely low toxicity and are not expected to cause any long-term harm. As long as it doesn't rain, the smoke in the atmosphere won't come down tonight or even, by morning. Myself and the rest of the hospital staff are well prepared to handle any medical cases or injuries related to the fire. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to prepare my staff further#  
said Joe as he pushed past the camera to go back inside the hospital.

With that, the airing story cut over to the news anchor once more.

##At LAX airport, some flights are being forced to delay landings because of thickening smoke, but Long Beach airport still reports normal operations.##

The view cut over to a sudden interruption on the live helicopter feed behind the newsman. A spokesman for Arco began to speak as his transmission cut in... ##We are doing everything we can to support the emergency services and to bring the situation under control. Had this happened a little later during the working day, some of these offices you're seeing that have been window shattered would have been full of people; there is no doubt that this would have caused dozens of deaths if it hadn't of happened during the middle of most people's lunch hour. Some early media reports spoke of eight fatalities, but these are completely and utterly false. All members of the staff from the terminal have been accounted for, except one. And there is a fire crew working the site now in an attempt to locate him.##

The man was overwhelmed when others off camera began demanding questions. There was a brief scuffle as other network reporters closed in on the man's podium. Seconds later, the TV feed was deftly returned to the newsroom.  
##About 227 schools across the greater Los Angeles County area as well as libraries and other public buildings are being closed for public safety. Police and local authorities are advising residents to consult public radio 101.3 FM for up-to-date evacuation information. The Los Angeles County Fire Department has requested that all schools should be closed within a 10-mile radius of the incident site, due to concerns involving the smoke plume and children's health.

##Ten thousand people or more in the immediate Carson and Wilmington residential neighborhoods are currently being evacuated from their homes.  
Emergency services are asking residents in the more distant smoke-affected areas to close their windows and doors and stay inside. The Sheriff's Department is now asking people who have houses with smashed windows to seek refuge with friends or family nearby if possible.

## If you need shelter, agencies are standing by to place you in area hotels, and shopping centers. Shell, the main operator of the Arco depot, has set up a helpline for people whose properties have been damaged by the explosion. They have called in local authorities and the Salvation Army to provide accommodation or other help for those affected by this afternoon's refinery explosion... The number to call is...##

Kel Brackett flicked the TV set off. "Let's go, everybody. I've heard enough.  
Dixie, make sure the Condition Orange has gone out to all off duty staff.  
Turn on the Fire Department's live scanner at the Base Station. I wanna know about any incoming casualties the moment they do."

"Right, Kel."

"Oh, and Dixie?"

"Yeah?"

"Get those news reporters out of my ER, stat. This is a disaster situation. If they aren't out of here and in the parking lot under two minutes flat, call the police and have them start making public nuisance arrests for illegal trespass."

"Gladly." said Dixie.

Everyone abandoned the nurse's lounge and began preparing for the worst.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Cap peeking over the engine cab door.

Photo: An oil covered worker.

Photo: Roy and Johnny treating a downed man.

Photo: An aircrane helitank dropping foam on a fire.

Photo: A massive smoke plume on the wind, eyeball level.

Photo: A refinery fire, two tanks ablaze and black smoke.

Photo: Station 51 entering a region of fire with a hose.

Photo: Kel Brackett and Dixie watching TV in the nurses' lounge.

*  
From: 'Dr. Jeff Seltun'  
Date: Friday Nov 24, 2006 9:41 pm Subject: Pressure Cooker..

Captain Stanley swallowed around his dry throat in his scba mask. "Ok, Mike. This is close enough. Stop right here. Chet, Marco! Get that fire pond gate open! Draw from there using the high pressure snorkel impeller and start sending water into the bund surrounding this first distillation tower. The chief's already ordered a second Erickson Aircrane to be a remote nurse tender refill tanker for us should we run dry. Call in the S-64 on Tach Three when you need them. Truck 127's gonna be our safety net with plenty of foam!"

"Ok, Cap.." said Kelly and Lopez, climbing out of the Ward in their flowing air bottles and masks.

Roy and Johnny met Hank in a meeting by the road where Stoker was quickly laying covering hose. "I take it we're gonna search this one first?" asked DeSoto, coiling two bundles of thick rope onto his shoulder.

"Make it fast." Cap nodded. "The air's rapidly turning volatile. You have ten minutes! Keep in touch with me every minute." He pointed into the inky black and smothered sky. "Aircrane 47's gonna follow your progress the whole way up and down with a primed foam cannon. At the first hint of trouble, rappel the h*ll out of there!"

"What's this guy's name?" Gage shouted over the roaring hiss of fire and the helicopter's whirling rotors.

"Marve."

"And his job?" Roy asked, wondering if their missing man could prove to be a plant worker whose location and refinery experience could aid them by sharing knowledge about potential hot spots.

"He thinks he's a manager!" Hank growled in frustration.

"Not any more, he doesn't... He just became our next victim." Johnny said. "Roy, let's go. Cap, once we're at the top, we'll holler for the stokes!"

"Don't tie yourselves up any yet. Let's make sure we're not risking all our skins rescuing a corpse first. That second tanker's a little too close for comfort." Cap told them empathetically. "I'll have some spare air bottles sitting on the hood of the squad." he shouted as Stoker primed a hose and began aiming it at the base of the climbing ladder the two paramedics would be using to cool it down.

Chet was ducking unconsciously as thick clouds of inky, oil scorched smoke turned bright middle day into the blackest night as they swirled down on top of them from the fire's location. He was more than just a little uneasy.  
"Say, Marco.. how many gallons does this mother tank hold again?"

"Three million. Tops. Won't be a problem if we don't let this side of it feel heat enough to buckle." grinned Lopez through his mask.

"So says the Jiffy Pop popcorn kernel to the fireplace right before the big foil lid raising event." Chet joked tensely.

"Think ice cubes, Kelly. Helps a heap." said Stoker through his air gear.

"Right.." said Chet nervously as he helped Lopez cover Roy and Johnny's way up the tall concrete processing tower. He licked away a trickle of sweat that dripped down his nose in a rivulet. ::Gage. DeSoto. Make it fast:  
he thought.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Captain Stanley giving out an order under a pipeline.

Photo: Roy and Johnny gearing up with air bottles and ropes.

Photo: A refinery fire creating night darkness at noon.

Photo: Aircrane helitank shooting foam through a cannon.

Photo: An emergency fire pond sign.

Photo: The gang moving through fire and ductwork outside.

Photo: A tanker pumping foam onto a damaged oil reservoir tank.

*  
From: 'Roxy Dee'  
Subject: Prep Work~~ Date: Date: Sun Nov 26, 2006 9:01 pm

Roy DeSoto tried not to think about the raging fire that was growing around them. "Johnny, I'll go first. I'm bigger." he said, peering up the distillation tower's climbing ladder as he searched for loose bolts and for any recent structural damage it might have suffered.

"Why is bigger always better?" Gage griped in annoyance. "Small and lithe works just as well in any climbing situation 'cause that kind of firefighter,  
can worm himself around just about anything that gets in the way." he joked with some pride as he reflected on his own abilities. He grunted meaningfully as he readjusted his snub's rope as he got into a safety belt at the entrance to the climbing tubule.

Roy rolled his eyes through his air mask in a look of long suffering.  
"Hmm... Gravity was still working last time I checked, junior. Think about it.  
If you fall, I've enough mass to catch you, even with you in your air bottle carrying those two extra spares."

Gage ignored his glib comment. "Yeah, but I grabbed the drug box first. If that guy's up there, and not breathing, he's gonna need this epi, fast."

"Epi's impotent without some manual pipework initially, and you know it.  
And either one of us will do for his mouth to mouth if any's needed." Roy sighed,  
craftily shoving his partner aside with a broad shoulder to grip the first rung of the ladder that was before them, stretching above their heads. "I'm gonna be your anchor without a fight. So live with it."

"Like I had any choice?! ..Huh... You know, there's nothing like dishing out a psychological noogie or two when offering a guy a little encouragement, pal."

"I don't need it. Having the chance to save a life every day is all the carrot dangling I've EVER needed. And the same goes for you, too, junior." DeSoto shouted down to him through his face plate.

Gage finally chuckled, quickly following after him. With a free glove, Johnny pulled out his HT. "HT 51 to Aircrane 47. We're on the tower. Are you seeing signs of a possible victim up there yet?"

##Aircrane 47 to HT 51. Stand by...##

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: An Erickson Aircrane helitanker hovering over an oil tower.

Photo: Roy beginning a roped climb up a ladder.

Photo: Gage lowering himself down in ropes in a tube.

************************************************** From : Roxy Dee Sent : Monday, November 27, 2006 5:40 PM Subject : Making like Bat Man~~

The thrumming chop of the helitanker hovering above echoed eerily with an open mic'd frequency whine as long seconds ticked by. The two paramedics kept moving upward swiftly, each listening to the hiss of their own solitary hard breathing, as air whistled in and out of their scbas' regulators.

::Come on... Come on, Mr. Hot Shot Pilot...:: Gage mentally urged. ::Those tank reservoirs nearest us aren't gonna be behaving themselves for much longer. Not with this much fire around. :: he thought, eyeballing their surroundings in a quick assessment. He could feel their looming bulk pressing in acutely. Johnny started imagining that he could hear their steel shell drums beginning to groan under the insult of the fire's concrete bound conducted heat. He startled badly when they began doing it for real.

*Ping--nnNNGGgg.. Phoofffff-ff....*creakkKKK..kkk* said the metal.

Truck 127 stepped up the volume of their foam production hastily. That station's silver hazmat suited fire crew quickly re-aimed their primary working cannon to where the voice of violation spoke the loudest.

Battalion sang out new orders. ##That was tanker nine. Shift your attack! All crews: Shift!! Don't let her get hot. Aircrane 30, smother the east side housing pipes leading to the pumping station of Reservoir #9, a.s.a.p. ! We don't want to develop a vapored gas leak from there. Foam 205, take over for Truck 127 on cooling tank twelve. Station 51's in its immediate vicinity.##

##10-4, Battalion Four.## said the second chopper crew. ##Foam drop on Junction Nine West in one#  
The second called upon unit responded to their hail. 205's captain immediately replied to Chief Conrad. ##Copy. Be back-up for 51 on oil Tank #12.## There was a pause of radio over the sounds of the burning fire. Then... ##Engine 205, L.A. Position change.. We're now a quarter mile east of the San Diego Freeway near Alameda Street at Arco entrance Tango 1-1 Charlie, flanking Station 51. Crew of eight.##

##Foam 205, location and number of personnel, affirm.## replied L.A.

Squad 51's pair looked up a short time later as the reassuring shape of a new Aircrane dipped in close to them and her sistercraft and released a satisfying cascading payload of white fire retardant from her underside tank hold.

Roy couldn't wait any longer. He switched to Johnny's talk channel with 47's pilot. "Aircrane 47! Victim status! Do you have a visual?" he shouted through his face glass plate at his HT.

There was a long delay as the entire fire effort that was water curtain framing a half mile of inferno, stepped up its aerial and ground foam attacks.

Gage started coughing with exertion just as their pilot re-initiated contact. ##Aircrane 47 to HT 51. Affirmative. Your victim is on the first worker access platform ring on the west side, facing sunward. He's non-moving at this time on his back but he is without apparent limb fractures. Unable to confirm as still alive due to blocking smoke on our wind.##

"That's all we needed to hear, 47. Copy: Found victim is physically intact on sighting." said Gage to the helitanker.

Roy and Johnny quickly opened the meshed gate encasing the access ladder and stepped onto the narrow maintenance grill ringing the oil stack. The two air bottled paramedics ran to where they could see the very sooty refinery manager sprawled half on and half off the platform. Roy hauled his upper torso back to safety using the front of the unconscious man's shirt gripped in two hands.

Then DeSoto peeled off a glove and dug a few fingers deep into the groove running along the man's neck. "I've got a carotid." He shifted an arm and laid it across Marve's chest. "And he's breathin.. So far, he's doing ok." he shared with his partner in a thumbs up.

Gage lifted his radio, crouching down to open the manager's shirt with his free hand to expose his chest so he could monitor him while they waited for equipment. Johnny got on his hand held radio to the ground. "HT 51 to Engine 51. Heads up! We're going a rapid extrication. We are on the first tier facing into the sun at your two o'clock."

Hank Stanley replied on Main. ##Engine 51 to HT 51. 10-4. Sending up Kelly to assist with stokes. Do you want an airlift pickup?##

Roy swung his air masked helmeted head as he glanced at the air space surrounding the tower."Negative. He's a rappel down. Smoke's too thick up here for clear navigation."

Roy reached into his jacket for an oral airway when Marve didn't react to a sharp sternal rub. He inserted it over the man's tongue and settled it into place in between his teeth. Soon the blonde paramedic began to search for signs of severe blood loss on Marve. He found none at all. "Looks like he's dealing with just some smoke inhalation, Johnny. I'm not finding any kind of injuries on him." Roy reported. "Breathing's at ten and getting shallower."

"I'll get his air bottle set up." Gage replied. He glanced down the ladder at a loud clang. He began chuckling. "And here comes Chet. Looks like he's thought up another cockamamie plan. He's actually dog sledding the stokes up along behind himself using a waist tether."

"He uses what works." Roy snorted as he fitted the smoky manager face and head into one of the spare scba air masks on high flow. "Marve's bottle's on top flow. Started at ..14: 06."

Johnny set his watch on timer. "Got it. T-minus ten from...mark. Our own bottles will be dry in seven and a half, give or take."

"Relax, I am keeping track of our own breathing room with my full attention." Roy said, placing Marve into anatomical position for easier stokes loading. "I can't wait to get out of here. I don't enjoy being inside of a powder keg."

"Amen to that." said Johnny, rising after feeling for a pulse quality on Marve.  
"He's 122 but steady down to the brachial. At least his BP's holding." he said, placing their drug box under Marve's raised feet to help with thwarting shock. "Is he nauseated?"

Roy place a hand on Marve's exposed stomach, feeling for any indication of tightening involuntary muscles. "Not yet. He's not down very deep pressure wise past your eighty systolic pulse location estimate. His shorts are still dry."

"Let's keep him on his back then." Gage agreed with a nod.

First thing he did was reach for the plastic wrapped yellow shock sheet Kelly had strapped into the empty stokes.

"How's he doing?" Chet said, passing off another extra air bottle to Roy from his free shoulder. DeSoto grabbed Chet's arm and helped him out of the ladder cage.

"He's breathing. Got a little too much smoke we're guessing. He hasn't started coughing yet using his cleaner air." Roy told him, hooking a thumb over to the scba mask strapped over Marve's face. "No injuries."

"Guess we won't be needing this then." said Chet, tossing a disposable cervical collar over the side of the tower rail. He shouted into his radio.  
"Heads up! Debris coming down!" he warned the firefighters below. "That'll make 'em smile and tell how good our victim's save status is."

"You're impossible." Roy grinned.

"I always aim to please." gulped Chet. "Did you hear on Tach One? Nine's heating up now along with our buddy tank number twelve. Foam's not working."

"We heard the tactics change from the chief. What's our escape route?"  
Johnny asked Kelly.

Chet rapped a few knuckles on the side of the tower meaningfully.

"What?! Chet, you're kidding me. There are no lights on inside of there. They've cut all the power. How are we gonna be able to see the ladder rungs well enough to climb both us and him down out of trouble?"

"Chief said we can feel our way down using our feet as testers easily enough with him strung from a central pulley off an eyebeam somewhere."

"That's insane. Nobody thought to bring up any flashlights." Johnny exasperated.

"Gage, look. It'll be no sweat, man. We're not gonna be groping around very far. There's a small internal room about twenty feet beneath us that serves Arco's HVAC as a utility space next to the drawing mother pipe that's got a tunnel access that lets out onto the highway. The tower crew's saying our way down's only a little like a missile silo." he offered in sympathy.

Johnny's expression remained stony.  
"Just great. The only escape option made available to us is a completely blind vertical." Gage complained. "Roy, remind me later about why I joined the fire department, would ya?"

Chet shrugged as he helped Roy lift Marve into the empty stokes in order to strap him in. "We gotta have somewhere to go to get away from all this heat should we have to. It's better than inviting a victim barbeque lowering Marve here down on a rope along the outside. He'll bake.  
You know that. You saw all those flames. They're probably already coming our way and licking this tower as we speak."

"Fine. Fine." said Gage. "Let's go. The sooner we all leave, the happier I'll be. I'd rather keep thinking about that Snicker's bar I left sitting on the squad's dashboard than dwell on how many ways we all might get blown up into a million pieces."

"Nice carrot reward, Johnny." Roy quipped. "If I get down there first ahead of you, can I have it? I'm starving."

"Would you just shut up and go grab Marve's foot end." Johnny growled hefting up the head of their victim's stokes. Already, he could feel the day's crushing bone aching fatigue, settling in.

"Anything you say." Roy winked.

Kelly got to work piling the three extra air bottles and the drug box in between Marve's shock tarp covered legs.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Photo: Roy on HT with scba, scared.

Photo: An Erickson aircrane dumping foam.

Photo: Chet in turn out in a close up.

Photo: The gang with a victim stokes on a metal tower.

Photo: Cap listening and glancing up, in scba.

Photo: A fire engine stringing hose at the Arco refinery.

Photo: Hazmat firefighters in silver firesuits, in a hose attack.

*  
From: "Patti" Date: Fri Dec 1, 2006 7:13 pm Subject: Just Like Jiffy Pop..

Chet got on his HT. "I'm there, Cap. We've got our man bundled up in the stokes and we're just about ready to start on our interior descent route. How're things looking so far with the spread of nearby fire?"

##Hold on, pal. Chief Conrad's still checking in with our other companies. The next update will come in half a mic." replied Hank over the radio.

"All right. Standing by. Cap, it's probably a safe bet that our radios won't work well once we're all inside." Chet panted, still trying to catch his breath after the long climb up the tower. "I'm seeing galvanized heavy carbon steel up here."

Hank replied back. ##Yeah, I agree. Spotty at the best. That'll depend on the tower's metal shielding and the presence or absence of ventilating airshafts. We'll cross that broken bridge when we get to it. Your top priority is getting yourselves and your victim out of current danger. If that tank near you decides to blow..##

"Copy. Hustle the muscle. I'll tone a triple toggle on your channel just before we close the door."

##I'll be listening for it with both ears.## said Cap from far down below.

Roy started work on the locking mechanism attached to the only maintenance door located on their walkway's level which led to the distillation chamber shaft above the mechanical room and its escape tunnel. DeSoto began using his jacket halligan as a wedge to try and loosen the hatch's access wheel. It began to give only slightly with a painfully resistant, dry, fire heated creak.

Gage moved to help Roy with his own jacket tool on the other side. "Chet, stay by Marve's head and keep monitoring his breathing. Some bad chemical's in all this smoke." he hissed through his scba mask.

"I noticed. It went from mostly gray to almost all black with flecks of brown on the way up. It couldn't have smelled very good to Marve before we got him on this air."  
Kelly said, tightening the straps over his own face and the manager's where it lolled in between his sooty knees.

"He's gonna get into cyanide and carbon monoxide issues real soon if he hasn't already." Roy added, grunting as he and Gage strained against the wheel. "Can't wait to get a couple of hands on some oxygen."

"We'll be down in ten minutes, Roy. Just keep your eye...... on the squad." joked Gage to encourage him as they both struggled to turn the door's hatch mechanism.

Blinking away sweat, Roy did so, strictly for the mental perk.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marco Lopez took a wrong turn running a fresh set of air bottles over to Cap and Stoker where they stood beneath Roy and Johnny's tower.

He startled when a small white building he hadn't noticed before caught his attention. Part of it was turning yellow on one side from some kind of watery cascade and it began to glint eerily under the smoke smothered daylight. He hastily backed up behind some protective pipework and started broadcasting over his HT on Emergency channel. "Bund leak! Chemical rupture at 51's location! Out building twelve east. Pressurized liquid gas is escaping."  
Then he ran for his fire engine and the squad his crewmates were already preparing to speed away.

"How bad is it, Marco?" Cap asked when he spied Marco flying in out of the smoke.  
"Can we get Roy, Johnny and Chet down and out safely before the fire reaches that gas?"

"No. We don't have even two minutes. An overflow valve's failed. The gasoline pool's already dozens of feet in diameter and a tendril's headed right for our burning terminal, flowing downhill. That area's inaccessible to the helicopter. There are too many pipes in the way." Lopez said, helping Stoker drop the charged hoses off their pumper valves to free the Ward LaFrance for escape.

That was all the news Hank needed to hear. He boosted his handheld's gain to maximum. ##Engine 51 to HT 51. Get under cover! Major blow on the way!## Cap told his paramedics. ::D*mn! All we can do now is flee with the rest of the fire truck companies for the bridge protected upwind part of the freeway.

At the same time, the chief took Marco's hasty visual report deeply to heart.  
##Battalion 4 to all fire crews. Evacuate immediately. Explosion at tanker 12 is imminent! Everybody back! Get back!##

Cap slammed his cab door shut as he radioed Aircrane 47 on their channel.  
"Pull up! Explosion coming!"

##Aircrane 47 copies. Abandoning.## and the helitanker lurched away from Arco and the distillation tower.

Roy and Johnny noticed the sudden lack of rotor blade noise. "Uh, oh." said Gage.

Kelly leaped at the bulkhead wheel, throwing his additional weight onto the struts. Frantic, Johnny hefted up an air bottle and hammered it down onto the wheel gear again and again to break away its rusty corrosion. "OSHA's gonna have a field day up here..." he grunted.

"I think they already are." said Chet about the fire surrounding them. "Third fire in eighteen months? Heads are gonna roll.." he strained.

"But hopefully, not ours!" said Roy.

All three firemen fell to the metal decking when the wheel gave way at last, suddenly functioning. They scrambled to their feet to crank it around into 'open'.

The hatch clanked open with an echoing bang as Chet gleefully signalled success over his HT by pressing the talkie's attention button in a triple hail.

Just as fast, a smothering deep belching gurgle, heralding an inferno, swept up the tower as tank number twelve annihilated itself into monsterous h*llfire.

"Get down!" Johnny screamed as the heat and light from the explosion rocked them. The punishing lick of a giant fireball scintillated past their ducked heads and folded limbs, reducing the railing above their shoulders into red hot slag.

"Get him in!" Roy hollered, grabbing Marve's stokes and manhandling it into the dark hatch. Johnny barely had the lowering ropes tied to the inner turn wheel of the door when they dropped him to hang head up and dove inside.

Roy gasped as his gloved fingers almost lost hold of the rungs of the interior ladder. Gage grabbed him by the collar and hooked both legs around a support. He latched on Roy's lifebelt clasp to a rung. "I got you.. AhhhHH!  
Quit kicking. You're locked in!"

DeSoto froze after his feet and gloves found anchor. "Where's...*cough *cough*  
Chet? I thought he was right behind us!" he shouted through his air mask.

Johnny ducked his head back outside under the flames and peered about.  
Chet was lying eight feet away from the hatch on his stomach. He had been sandwiched face down against the wall from the force of the explosion.

Gage blinked at the searing horrible mushroom cloud roiling into being over them and quickly looked away to save his eyes from flash burning. He grabbed Kelly's arm and began hauling him towards the hatched doorway and safety.  
"Chet?...*cough* Can you hear me?"

Kelly remained limp as his jacket started smoldering. Johnny realized with a shock that Chet's air mask was punched in, and his air hose, shredded beyond any usefulness. He shoved Chet's head inside the hole."Roy! Grab him. He's out! He's got no air!" Johnny yelled.

"Got him!"

Gage felt Roy snick Chet's lifebelt connector to the stokes rim as he flopped inside and fell into the tower like a rag doll. The two paramedics slammed the hatch shut just as a huge new wall of fire boiled into the place they had just left. Outside, blazing suddenly orange and white, the metal walkway ring melted, slagging away from the tower stack.

"Are you ok?" Roy gasped at Johnny through his sweaty mask.

"I think so...*ughnn* All in one piece I think." Johnny said.

Building plasma began fusing the hatch door to the bulkhead with hissing pops and deafening snaps, causing the door to bow in at the edges, admitting flames.

"Down, move down! We've got to get to that protected room now." he choked. "Before we run out of free air. Chet's maskless."

Hastily, the two paramedics strained on the ladder, lowering the weight of two men and the air bottle laden stokes down onto the roof of the maintenance room with a couple of hand held ropes.

As soon as Chet and Marve touched bottom, Roy and Johnny slid down the ladder sides like a firepole.

Kneeling, Johnny ripped off Chet's shattered face plate as he bent down over Kelly's nose and mouth. "He's breathing. Barely."

"S.I. for sure." DeSoto said. "Marve's still the same." he said, placing a hand on the manager's dirty chest.

The firefighters were horrified to find that they could see in the darkness.  
The many rivetted seams of the tower's inner skin were becoming unsealed by the tremendous heat outside, admitting an eerie arc weld like phosphorescent yellow glow as their sulfur soldering burned away.

"In.. Get them in!" said Johnny. "There's toxic fumes out here."

Using ropes tied around the stokes and looped underneath Kelly's arms, Roy and Johnny got both men inside the maintenance chamber through the room's roof access hatch.

For a second time, a heavy steel door closed down and locked.  
and this time, the darkness was absolute. Roy pulled off a glove to feel the air's temperature on the skin of one trembling hand.  
"It's cool. Safe enough to breathe."

Coughing and choking, Roy and Johnny peeled out of their helmets and air masks and they toggled their regulators to 'off' to conserve their bottles' air for a later need.

The two paramedics flopped down and lay on their backs, spread eagle, gasping in utter exhaustion.

Gage acted first once he found he could move past the cramps.  
He rolled over and pulled one of the spare air bottles and masks out of the stokes to use on Kelly. Quickly, he pulled off Chet's smoking shirt to end any chemical burning. He stopped peeling off layers when Kelly's T-shirt underneath revealed itself by touch to be still whole and undamaged. "We need better light to see how they're really doing. Maybe we should try and open that vent up there."

"Not yet. The explosions are still going on. Feel that?"  
Roy asked him.

Dimly, Gage felt shudders and shifting as the tower rocked, as it burned, its exterior paint fully on fire. He felt off balance at every jarring. ::Is that in my head or outside my body?:: Johnny thought.  
"Unfortunately, I still can." he grunted as an answer.

"At least we know the tower won't collapse on us." Roy said.

"How do know you that?" Johnny said, monitoring Chet's coratid pulse.

"I know that because it hasn't yet." Roy told him with a grin. DeSoto bent over Marve to determine his breathing condition once more.  
"Marve's inhalations are weaker. Gimme the drug box."

Johnny groaned as he groped around blindly until he found it.  
He thrust it out into the general direction of Roy's voice. "Here."  
he said. "How long do you think our air'll last before we find ourselves stuck breathing out of our scba gear?"

"Hard to say. This isn't like a brush forest firestorm at all. The fire's stationary. It's burning in one place."

"Maybe the action of the fire burning inside that blown tanker'll.  
act like a chimney for us, pulling in fresh atmosphere into the tower through the gaps." Gage hoped.

"Johnny, you absolutely astound me. Are you trying to be optimistic for a change?" Roy chuckled.

"Oh, why don't you just hush. Of course I am. That's better than.. than..than.  
thinking we're all gonna die horrible deaths in here." Gage said in exasperation.

"Perish the thought."

-  
Battalion Four immediately conferred with Hank Stanley. "Are you sure you've heard from them?"

"Yes, Chief. Absolutely. Chet fired off a triple pulse just before the tanker blew. That means they made it inside and--"

"...that your men are still well enough to take that escape route through the tunnel..."

"...and get out to us on the freeway intact. Yes." Cap completed for him.

Conrad sighed, long and wearily around the sweat on his face. "Tell me frankly, Hank. Do they have enough self contained air for all of them to make it out still breathing?"

"That depends on the fire, Chief. And whether or not those explosions are compromising their underground tunnel or not." Stanley said, rubbing his sooty mouth.

Battalion nodded. "I'll concentrate both Aircranes' foam drops over your men's mapped route. Anything we can do now will cool the ground above them and help cut down rock and regolith buckling."

"Thanks, Chief."

"Don't thank me yet. Thank me when we have three live firemen and a live victim firmly in our hands." he frowned seriously.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

************************************************** From: "patti keiper" Date: Sat Dec 2, 2006 7:09 pm Subject: The Defining Hour.. Roy snapped open the drug box and unsandwiched the organizational trays. "Blind as a bat." he complained, grumbling. "I can't find the epinephrine, Johnny."

Gage coughed. "It should be right there." he said pointing somewhat blindly himself. "On the top shelf. Left hand side with the adult doses to the right of the peds ones with the 1/1,000's sideways and the 1/10,000's stacked vertically."

"They're not. Trust me."

"Well, why not?" Gage needled, bending over to listen to Chet's lungs with an ear laid against the skin of his chest.

"Because I completely reorganized the drug box on Dr. Brackett's orders this morning, remember?!" Roy snapped. "And neither one of us has had time to memorize where all the new things are yet." In frustration, he dragged out a pocket mask from his turnout and pushed it into usable shape with his thumbs. He tossed it onto Marve's stomach as a standby.

"Hang on a sec." said Johnny. Gage reached over and pulled out a gauze 4 X 4. He rolled it up into a tube and tore the paper off one end. He dipped it into a puddle of oil that had dripped in after them and waited a few seconds until the gauze acted like a wick and sucked up the crude into its cotton fibers. Then he touched the soaked tip against an ember still smoldering on Chet's stripped off turnout coat.

A small flame ignited with a poof on the improvised brand he had made.  
"Wahla.. one tiki torch, free,.. at no charge." he joked flatly, handing it over.

Roy regarded him with squinty eyes.  
"You've started watching Adam-12 episodes again, haven't you?  
This is what Officer Jim Reed does when he finds himself pinned down by snipers at night." Roy smiled, poking the bottom end of the bizarre candle into an un-plungered un-needled syringe barrel so they could hold onto it without burning their fingers.

Gage didn't say anything. "Chet's not the only one who can be resourceful at times." he said matter of factly, then he picked up his head. "Roy, he's got rhonci, both sides, with some serious spasming. Give me an albuterol inhaler canister."

"Can he feel pain?" DeSoto asked, moving to kneel by Marve's head to take off the manager's scba mask as he tossed over the bronchodilator.

Johnny pinched Chet's earlobe with a couple of sooty fingernails after he, too, peeled off Kelly's air supply.

Kelly began rasping liquidly without moving and he started working his mouth soundlessly as Johnny sat him up quickly against his chest in order to get him ready for the shot of misted drug to come, into his lungs.

"Yep." they both said at the same time.

Gage tipped Chet's head back over a shoulder to place the mouthpiece and triggered the albuterol. Then he waited for the medication to work itself in a little deeper.

DeSoto glanced down at Marve's gray skin. "How's Chet's color?  
Marve's isn't so good." he said, leaning over to apply the pocket mask around the manager's head. Roy started giving him breaths through the one way valve intermittently, whenever the man didn't breathe in on his own.

Gage moved the candle a little closer to his partner, bundling its pointed base into a nested glove. "We can't wait any more, Roy.  
I'm going to go try to get Rampart on HT for that guy's epinephrine order."

"Don't fry yourself in the process." DeSoto quipped.

"Have I ever?" Johnny frowned ruefully, lowering Chet back down onto his back again. He refitted the scba gear over Kelly's face.  
"Help me watch him. Pulse's rising."

"He didn't need that double dose, partner."

"I like to err to the side of caution." Gage replied. "So I get a little over protective working on somebody I know. Is that such a big deal?"

Roy didn't say anything, past a slow smile."Let's just hope Chet didn't hear you say that last remark. He'll never let you live it down if he did."

Gage glared at him and scrambled over to the ceiling vent. He kicked out its sealing grill with a foot and gasped in relief when weak, smoke filtered daylight started streaming in. "I promise I'll block this off with a rug if the smoke starts coming in." Then he pulled out his handy talkie. "Gage on HT 51 to Battalion I.C. Do you read me?"

The loud crackle of committing frequency filled the room and lifted both the paramedics' spirits. ##Loud and clear, 51. What's your status#  
answered Conrad.

"One non-breather and one Code I in respiratory difficulty from smoke inhalation. We need a patch to Rampart, a.s.a.p. DeSoto and I are safe for the moment but our two victims can't be moved yet without treatment first." Johnny explained.

##Battalion Four to HT 51. Stand by while I set up your hospital's relay through L.A.## came the Chief's solution.

Johnny watched as Roy set up a concentrated I.M. of epinephrine for Marve in between his mouth to mask ventilations. ::Come on. Come on..Hurry it up and answer, or both of these guys are gonna slip into metabolic acidosis problems.:: he fretted mentally.

Seconds later, Johnny heard Brackett's rich baritone taking over.  
##Squad 51, I've been apprised of your situation. Go ahead and deliver 1 milligram of 1/10,000 epinephrine I.M. on respiratory arresting victim one and give me a set of vitals on your downed fireman afterwards.##

Roy stabbed the medication home into Marve's hip after swabbing it down.  
Very soon, the manager started gasping noisily. "He's effective now."  
DeSoto told Johnny as he retipped the man's head into a better position.  
A minute later, he traded the pocket mask back out for his air flowing scba's face plate once more. "He's at twenty again, but they're somewhat shallow." he said placing a hand on the manager's stomach for a respirations count.

Johnny relaxed, just a tad. "Rampart, victim one's breathing on his own.  
Twenty and shallow. But still unconscious. Uh,..doc. Please note that we're currently holed up away from a fire without our medical oxygen. We've just air bottles."

##They'll do, 51. What are victim two's vital signs?##

"Pulse is 140 due to albuterol times 2. Respirations are wet but open, at twenty four. Reactive to pain. Rampart, we've no BP cuff. His pulse is regular and palpable. We can feel it strongly at the carotid but it's absent in the limbs and he's somewhat diaphoretic. He has no burns or other signs of trauma."

##Sounds like shock's already kicking in. Is his core perfusion holding up?##

"Yes so far, Rampart. Update: Victim one's vitals are now stabilizing. His pulse is being felt now at the brachial at a rate of 110." Gage told him from what he read off Roy's care notes.

Johnny could almost see Kel's approving, thoughtful nod in front of him.  
##Keep both their heads elevated despite that obvious hypotension so we can gain more breathing ability. 51, we're going to treat for smoke poisoning strictly on the basis of their altered levels of consciousness. I assume you two have had time to implement the new modifications I wanted instigated into your pharmceuticals box, correct?##

"That's affirmative, doc." Johnny started. ::Whew. Thank heavens for Roy's sense of do-right-away when it comes to doing paramedic chores.::

##All right. Let's begin their antidote treatment. I want an estimate of how long both your victims may have been trapped in the fire. I'm trying to extrapolate the maximal carboxyhemoglobin and CN levels they may have sustained thus far.##

Johnny didn't hesitate. He had already done the calculations. "Victim one,  
twenty two minutes in moderate to light smoke. Victim Two, about five in heavy smoke. Uh, our combustive constituents were petroleum and natural gas producing chemical additives. Victim one's weight is approximately 140- 145 lbs, and victim two weighs 185 pounds."

##10-4, 51. I want a tighter Glasgow estimate for both.##

"Victim one, coma scale 9. Victim two, 11, nonverbal."

##Is victim two starting to show signs of restlessness?##

"10-4, movements are more like those associated with confusion and syncope rather than any seizure activity, Rampart."

##All right, that puts him in the potential of 40% HbCO by volume. Do you have volumetric I.V. fluids capability?##

"Negative. Just our drug box. If needed, we've saline boluses of ten and one hundred cc's."

##Skip those. Break two ampuls of Amyl nitrite inhalant and hold under Victim Two's nose for thirty seconds on every minute for four minutes. Use his air flow source as an impromptu nebulizer. I want to convert some of his hemogoblin to methemoglobin to start binding up some of the worst of his CN and carbon monoxide poisoning. Continue using I.N. vials until you get to the rest of your gear and become able to establish an I.V. of normal saline with 10 mL of a 3% solution sodium nitirite pushed over 2-4 min. We'll worry about using methylene blue as a reduction agent to reclaim his oxyhemoglobin once his kidneys have started excreting bound up toxins.  
When that happens, use a 1-2 mg/kg IV dosage over 5 min. Its peak beneficial effect will occur in half an hour. We'll be the ones repeating his second course of that once he's been transported, as necessary.##

"10-4. Continuous inhaled Isoamyl nitrite on victim two until two drugs into an I.V. N.S.. 10cc's of 3% sodium nitrate over 2-4, followed by 1-2mgs/kg methylene blue over 5." Gage recited in confirmation.

##Yes, 51. ##

"10-4."

##Wait a minute, Johnny.##

"Doc?"

##In true fact, I like this course of treatment so much, do the same for Victim One while you're at it. The only drawback will be that he recovers from his smoke inhalation a little faster that your other patient.## chuckled Kel.

Gage and Roy both grinned.

##Continue assessing both their airways and monitor for any further detrimental respiratory changes. Treat any compromises aggressively like you did with the albuterol for those bronchospasms. Once they both awaken, watch for hoarseness, any changes in voice, complaints of throat pain, or odynophagia. These indicate an upper airway injury that may be severe. Carbonaceous sputum should be regarded as a marker of dangerous alveoliar exposure. Help either one along on ambu if necessary to splint and keep protecting their airsacs. Start 100% 02 on both as soon as possible. Give full vitals sets once in transit along with a pair of twelve lead EKG readings. Continuous.## ordered Kel.

"10-4, Rampart. Monitor and support upper airways on O2, and get EKG telemetry and vitals."

##Stay safe in there, you two. ## Brackett said uncharacteristically.

The heartfelt worry evident in the doctor's voice almost brought tears of emotion to the paramedics' eyes because of the weight of their horrible fatigue.

"We will." promised Gage.

-  
In the base station, Brackett hung up the red phone that had connected him through the dispatcher to Roy and Johnny's HT.

"Dix, once they arrive, order these blood tests: a complete blood count,  
chemistries, serum electrolytes, arterial blood gases with carboxyhemoglobin and methemoglobin levels both along with BUN and creatine studies. I want a full series of chest roentgenograms and a bronchoscopy room opened." Kel ordered.

"Are you afraid their lactate levels will be elevated?" Dix asked.

"That and their Clara cells. Last thing we need is for either of one of them to start accumulating protein-rich fluid in any bronchial cast formations.  
In that case, they'd stand a very poor chance of survival once ARDS sets in. Have respiratory therapy prepare a couple of ventilators in case they need P.E.E.P. support. Putting a hyperbaric chamber on standby wouldn't be such a bad idea either."

"Already done." McCall said, inclining her head. "Did 51 say anything about further casualties?"

"They didn't." smiled Brackett. "And that, is exactly the kind of miracle I've been hoping for all day." Kel picked up his coffee mug and saluted his nurse gleefully. "Here's to one toasted oil refinery and no deaths, down the hatch."

"Amen to that." said Dixie, sipping gratefully from hers.

-  
Johnny looked down and peered into Chet's face when he started to moan.  
"Lie still and keep this mask on. I know this stuff smells nasty but it's saving your life."

Kelly coughed and made a face at the vapors of Amyl nitrite drifting around the snapped ampul taped into place under his nose. He made a half hearted attempt to pull off the scba gear.

".ah. No." Gage said, gripping his wrists and guiding Chet's hands down.  
"Are you awake yet? Can you talk?"

Kelly frowned when he saw the fireglow flickering behind Johnny's head in an eerie reflection from the round ventilation shaft Gage had opened to gain radio line of sight. "When everything is coming your way, ..you're in the wrong lane..." he whispered about the oil fire exploding around them.

"What was that, Chet?" Gage said. "I didn't quite hear you."

Chet started to smile, still not opening his gritty eyes.  
"Gage, listen to me. This is important."

Johnny lowered himself down right next to Chet's mouth and set an ear onto his mask's glass plate.

Kelly smiled, arching his dirty eyebrows. "What you do today, might burn your butt tomorrow."

Gage straightened up in a mix of relief and annoyance. "Oh, gahh.  
No sh*t. We're firefighters, Chet. Now shut up and conserve your oxygen."

Roy piped up from where he was folded around the manager. "Glad to see you're feeling better, Kelly. How's the head?"

"Painful. *gasp* And I'm......still......kinda short of breath."

"You will be for a while." Roy told him. "And so will our friend here until all that poison gas decides to leave both your systems using the antidote medications we're running into ya."

"...yipee skippy.." Chet said without enthusiasm. "How....how's he doing over there?" Kelly wondered, wincing as Gage exchanged another vile smelling cracked vapor ampul for the spent old one without lifting up his air mask any further than what was necessary to slip in a few fingers.

"He's stable. He quit breathing for a minute, ten minutes ago. But it was nothing that a little epinephrine couldn't fix." Johnny told him, grinning.

Chet stayed silent, gaping vacantly at his surroundings.  
Then a look of panic entered his eyes. His hands flew to his throat.

"Chet? What's wrong?...." Johnny demanded, setting his hands on either side of Kelly's head.

Roy moved over to his side. "Are you choking?" he asked Kelly, taking a hold of his shoulders.

Kelly just gurgled and clawed at the mask.

Johnny pulled it off. "Hey, take a breath. You're still ok.."

Chet began to fight them, trying to move.

Roy's hand slipped during the struggle and one of them fell onto Kelly's stomach by accident. DeSoto glanced down and finally saw the rocking there. "He's just nauseated. He's not obstructing."

"Oh. Ok. uh, ok.." Johnny helped Chet roll onto his side and soon, the firefighter emptied and purged himself of old coffee and half digested food.

Kelly shuddered when the spasm ended and he stopped tensing once he was propped up against the box they got for him to lie on. He held up his hand to show them that he was fine even though he was collapsed limp with his eyes closed.

"Are you all right now?" Roy asked him, taking his racing pulse at the neck.

Chet opened his eyes. "My job.... would be just perfect.....if I never had to deal with any smoke!" he complained, as he pulled the scba air mask back down over his face from where it had been shoved up on top of his head. He suddenly looked comical with the white taped X still holding the ampul of cyanide antidote under his nose with his rescue messed hair.

Roy and Johnny burst out laughing and they were only interrupted when the manager awoke and began asking questions of his own.

"Come on, let's get them out of here. They're ready to leave." Gage said to his partner, tapping him on the shoulder. "I think I see the door that leads to the escape tunnel Chet promised us, right over there."

-  
It was a couple of days later, in the nurse's lounge of Rampart.

And at least three of Station 51's crew had finally broken the curse of no sleep.

Chet was sitting in a wheel chair in his street clothes, filling out his discharge papers under Dixie's happy scrutiny. Roy and Johnny were there, too, trying to down a whole pot of coffee between the two of them to fortify themselves for the hours they were going to spend taking Chet out to a baseball game to celebrate his release.

For Kel Brackett and McCall, it was deja vu all over again for the television set was on, covering the refinery fire and its aftermath.

##Last night, Three Valleys Water announced that it has detected the fire retardant perfluorooctane sulfonate (PFOS), used in fire fighting foam, in a ground water bore hole close to the Arco site. Representatives have stated that no water from this well will enter the public water supply and that a nearby well and pumping station has been closed as a precaution. The chemical is a known health risk and the state of California is about to ban its use...##

Kelly piped up. "Ha! Out it goes like the way of the abestos tarp! I always knew that stuff was foul."

"But it worked so well." Johnny said matter of factly, still sucked into the news report. His coffee mug was finally being ignored. "I wonder what they're gonna get to replace it."

"More Aircrane helitankers." DeSoto joked.

The hospital breakroom erupted into laughter.

"Heh, yeah.. But seriously, they do have a new fangled dry red powder they're still testing up at 110's to handle brush and fuel fires." Roy chuckled. "So I know we're not going to be suffering any no matter what they decide to do in the end."

Johnny hissed out loud. "Shhh. I wanna hear this." he said, pointing to the TV set.

##However, just prior to the announcement the Drinking Water Commission announced that it was increasing the safe level of the chemical in municipal drinking water. This prompted the Arco refinery's CEO, Mike Penning, to accuse the government of changing the rules to suit the situation in which PFOS levels in drinking water in the area may rise in the future....

##A further announcement was made this afternoon about the sequence of events which enabled the Arco disaster to occur. Starting at 19:00 on the evening of 10 December Tank 12, towards the north west of the main depot, was filled with unleaded gasoline. At midnight the terminal closed, and a check was made of the contents of tanks, which found everything normal. At approximately 03:00, the level gauge for Tank 12 began indicating an unchanging level reading, despite fuel filling continuing at 1600 gallons per hour into its reservoir. Calculations show that the tank would have begun to overflow at about 14:20."

"And that's what Marco saw!" said Gage. "Holy cow."

## Forty minutes later, an estimated 300 tons of natural gas would have spilled down the side of the tank onto the ground inside bund A, a semi-enclosed compound surrounding the block's several tanks. There is evidence suggesting that a high level switch, which should have detected that the tank was full and shut off the supply, failed to operate. CCTV footage shows a cloud of vapor, eight feet deep flowing away from the tank. By 15:01, when the first explosion occurred, the cloud had spread beyond the boundaries of the Arco site.

##The extent of the damage meant it was not possible to determine the exact source of ignition, but possibilities include an emergency generator and the depot's fire pump system. Investigators do not believe that it was caused either by a driver of a fuel tanker, as had been speculated, or by anyone using a mobile radio.  
##Other safety experts spoke of a known "Weekend effect" in industry, in which the lack of weekend maintenance creates an unsafe condition. Arco's production of oil and fuel products have dropped 60 % and will remain so until repairs can be affected. Previously, Arco Corp. filled 400 tanker trucks every day and handled around 2.37 million tons of fuel a year...##

Chet's mirth was contagious and soon, the others' attentions moved away from the murmuring TV and back into amicable conversations.

Kel Brackett was thoughtful. "You were far luckier than you could ever possibly know, Chet."

"How so, doc? No one cooked... I don't get your meaning." he shrugged,  
rubbing a bruised cheekbone.

"He means about that distillation tower of yours, fellas." Dixie elaborated.

Roy, Johnny and Chet stopped talking, their foreheads wrinking in confusion.

"What about it?" asked Chet.

Dixie's face fell into a soft line. "We saw footage taken from one of the Aircrane pilot's automatic cameras, covering the firecrews overseeing your own incident's rescue and recovery..." she fell quiet.

"And..?" asked Gage seriously.

"They went back right after your ambulance left to see exactly where you three took refuge..." McCall demurred, deeply effected. The nurse found that she couldn't complete her sentence when a sudden lump tightened her throat.

Dr. Brackett finished it for her. He met the firefighters' eyes. All of them.

"...and there was nothing there." Kel said.

FIN

Burnout Episode Thirty Nine Emergency Theater Live

-  
Photo: Gage broadcasting worriedly on HT over a downed Chet on scba air.

Photo: Roy giving mouth to mouth using a pocket mask.

Photo: An oil refinery, fully involved.

Photo: Fire crews foaming an extinguished fuel fire.

Photo: Brackett on a red phone.

Photo: Chet looking disturbed.

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